


The Understanding

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alien GH 325 Goo, Angst, Characters behaving out of character due to GH.325, Coulson has Skye issues, F/M, Jealous Melinda May, Melinda May wants to choke them, Resolved Sexual Tension, Skye has Coulson issues, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Coulson and Skye deal with behavior outside of their control. Melinda May gets caught in the middle.</p>
<p>He knew the moment the bright blue substance disappeared into Skye’s veins that something had changed. He felt instantly drawn to her, as if the GH 325 was calling to itself in a desperate attempt to draw two separate entities together, to make them one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Always Coulson

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place directly following 1x14

Week #1 

He knew the moment the bright blue substance disappeared into Skye’s veins that something had changed. He felt instantly drawn to her, as if the GH 325 was calling to itself in a desperate attempt to draw two separate entities together, to make them one. 

Hours of anguish and torment were spent monitoring the rise and fall of her chest. He’d done all he could to save her, moved heaven and earth, never once stopping to ask: should I?  Sure he’d tried to stop the injection, but that was before he realized how close Skye was to flatlining (alien Hypnotic be damned) because he so would’ve plunged that needle into her arm himself if it meant she didn’t die on that table, that day. 

So alive she was, he’d done it, pulled off the impossible - but he couldn’t ignore the nagging little voice that repeatedly asked: what happens _after_. _After_ she wakes up. _After_ she realizes what you’ve done to save her. _After she hates you._  

The hours dragged by, insistently so; no rest for the weary. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. Or ate. Or showered. The sleeves of his dress shirt that were rolled up his forearms, missed the camaraderie of his dark suit jacket, which had been removed from his grasp some time ago by May. Most likely to discourage him from holding _and_ staring _and_ refolding _and_ running his hands repeatedly over the blood soaked lapels - nervous tick notwithstanding - it was driving them the rest of the team nuts. So off it went to the garbage bin and he would just have to get over it, May was certain.

For days he sat there waiting. Soon his tongue swelled due to lack of hydration (and vocalization) and his hair stuck to his head in a most unflattering manner, but nothing else mattered. Not until Skye’s eyelids fluttered open and she found him seated by her side. And when she smiled a weak little smile, the floodgates of conflicting emotions he’d unwittingly bottled up since the moment he found her slumped over bleeding in that basement suddenly gave way. And at long last, he let go, crying nonstop, babbling incoherent nothings, that may or may not have included how there was no way he could ever lose her.

Oh, and he may have bared his soul…he couldn’t be certain

 

Week #2 

She’d been doing it a lot more lately. Breeching Coulson’s personal space by standing closely beside him, as if she belonged. Skye struggled to remember why she’d sought him out. As if it even mattered. She’d just end up right where she was anyway. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with inches separating them made it pretty difficult to discreetly glance at the man. Well, she glanced at him anyway. Stared, actually.

She loved his profile. It was strong, confident, sexy. And the longer she stared at the adorable little dimple at the corner of his mouth, the more she wanted to touch it, catalogue it, kiss…it… But she couldn’t just stand there feeding her eyes with sights of her beautiful boss. Well…apparently, she could.

Coulson eventually turned to meet her gaze, wearing an inquisitive, slightly amused and generally telling expression. His gentle smile and captivating eyes melted her reservations so quickly, she didn’t even remember making the decision to smile back.

So there they stood, smiling at one another right up in each other’s faces, completely oblivious to the open-mouthed shock of various team members. 

Eventually, Skye sparked up an arbitrary conversation about nothing and everything…anything to stay. A few quick sentences spoken in soft tones and he listened. He always listened.

When the conversation was over, she didn’t leave. She remained alongside him content just to be - no words necessary. She closed her eyes to savor the moment, unwilling for it to end. The fragrance of his crisp clean dress shirt and expensive aftershave engulfed her. He always smelled like that; a manly-clean deliciousness that was Coulson. A pinch of spicy, a dash of danger and equal parts tantalizing. Mystifying, unsatisfying, because she wanted more. She _needed_ more.

So slowly and almost imperceptibly, she inched closer and gently leaned into him, bracing herself for the inevitable moment he pulled away. Except he didn’t extract himself, didn’t leave. Instead, he adjusted his stance and deepened the pressure so that he was leaning into her too. 

~*~*~*~*~*

It was becoming harder and harder to be separated from him, especially during the night. It was almost as if nighttime existed only as an obstacle to be conquered; a countdown until such a time as she could once again be near him. She was tired of pretending to be asleep when all she wanted, no, _needed_ was to be near him. 

It had been over a week since her last full night’s sleep. Apparently, her body no longer required it. The little shut-eye she could manage was sporadic and rifled with images, messages, fragments of things she didn’t quite understand. But the common thread that tied everything together was Coulson. Always Coulson. 

 

 


	2. Always Skye

They’d taken to spending most of their time together, whether at work or play. If there was any reason (or excuse) for Coulson to request Skye’s assistance, she was called to his office. And if she was working on a project of her own, he’d take his laptop and sit down beside her as she worked, their bodies aligned perfectly. In fact, just about everything they did these days somehow found them in close proximity to one another. During down time, the two could be found playing 2-player video games or watching old movies, or just sitting side-by-side talking in hushed voices, not a credit card’s worth of distance between them. This was their new normal and the rest of the team was really starting to tire of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Why do they spend all of their free time together?" Fitz said, mostly to himself.  “Actually, they are together just about all the time now, they are.”

"I don't know, Fitz, but staring at them isn't going to make it stop," Jemma said without looking up. She didn't need to look up. She knew exactly what Skye and Coulson were doing. They were seated side-by-side on the sofa. It was the same thing they'd been doing all evening, every evening whenever they were afforded down time.

Ever since Skye's miraculous recovery from two bullets to the gut, they two had become inseparable - almost as if they were making up for lost time. Initially, Jemma had been quite suspicious and wanted to run more blood test. But that idea had been swiftly struck down.

"You poked and prodded her enough to last two lifetimes and have found absolutely no traces of GH 325. The answer is no," had been Coulson’s exact response, stern expression firmly set in place. But Jemma wasn't one to take no for an answer. She'd simply try again later. Maybe when he was in a more agreeable mood. Until then, she could fill a couple of 5-subject, college-ruled notebooks with what she'd observed over the past two weeks.

"You probably wouldn't have noticed a thing had I not pointed it out to you," Jemma said. She looked up from her computer tablet to observe Fitz's reaction.

"You can't be serious. Of course I would've noticed. Those two are practically glued together. It's like they're drawn to one another like orbiting planets. I've never seen anything like it. I mean, a month ago they were completely normal, and now..." Fitz cut himself off. The expression on Jemma’s face was one of pity, and that just would not do. He didn't need her feeling sorry for him. "Oh, don't look at me that way," he said, averting his eyes in a hasty, downward slant. "My micro-crush on Skye died a long time ago."

It wasn't long before he got up and left for his quarters. On his way out, he ran into Melinda May still dressed from head to toe in black. He was used to seeing her in black gear, but black sweats? That was completely overdoing it, he thought, wondering if she realized that workout gear was available in a wide array of colors.

"Fitz," she nodded.

“May,” he said as they passed one another.

Upon spotting Coulson and Skye on their favorite sofa chatting, smiling and gushing, May nearly made an about face. "Great," she said under her breath as she headed over to the couch opposite the sickening sight of Skye leaning her head on their boss' shoulder and playfully loosening the knot in his tie. "This is getting out of control." she said through clenched teeth as she sat down beside Jemma. "How could he not know how inappropriate that is?"

"I believe it has something to do with the substance they now both share. The GH 325," Jemma replied. Her head remained down so that she could appear to be concentrating on her reading while discreetly gossiping about the boss.

May scooted closer. "That's what I'm thinking. It started exactly two weeks ago and we all know what happened then. Have you run any recent tests?"

"Nope," Gemma said, letting her lips pop on the 'p'. "And it certainly isn't for lack of trying." She further lowered her voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "Why don't we go elsewhere so that we can speak freely."May nodded curtly and the two rose from the sofa. They were almost out of the door when Coulson spoke.

"May. I didn't realize you'd come in," he said, a huge, cheesy grin on his clueless face. May turned slowly to face him. It took a great deal of concentration to suppress the mother of all eye rolls.  Of course he hadn’t notice her, she thought, wryly. She wasn’t Skye!  

Coulson made eye contact with her for all of four seconds before returning his gaze to Skye. Always Skye.  She was his oxygen, his sustenance... It was enough to make May want to puke!

"Do you have a few moments?" Coulson said, continuing not to _actually_ _look_ at May as he spoke to her. I'd like to run something past...you...regarding..." His voice, much like his fleeting eye contact progressively faded away - redirected by a singular touch. Skye’s dainty hand on his thigh. Coulson froze as May’s eyebrows rose into her hairline.

This was a first. The Coulson she knew was very much in control of his libido. Who is this impostor who looks like he’s about to mess his boxers, May thought. The person sitting before her might look like Coulson, but that was where the comparison ended. May narrowed her eyes to focus on the couple and immediately came up with two more things. One: She hadn’t once seen Skye look away from him. It was almost as if the younger woman’s entire existence had narrowed down to Coulson. Two: their breathing, while shallow was perfectly in synch.

“That’s it, May said, her patience cracked. “Coulson?”  No response. _I know he is not pretending that he can't hear me! Five, four, three, two..._

"Coulson!"  she shouted.

Nothing. The man was lost to the warm, caramel center of Skye's eyes and the heat emanating from her palm, which had remained firmly planted on his thigh.

"Unbelievable!"

Grabbing Jemma’s wrist, May steered her out of the recreation room and down the hall.  Certain that they were out of earshot, she reared on the younger agent.

"Did you see that?"

"Yes, of course."

"Skye couldn't stand to have his attention diverted from her! Not even for fifteen seconds! AND she put her hand on his thigh?” May was clearly incredulous.

Jemma was stunned. She'd never taken the unflappable, legendary agent as a mother hen of sorts. Or...maybe this borderline, dare she say, jealousy was something else entirely. Could it be? Was May hot for Coulson?

"Yes, I saw," Jemma remarked, calmly. "I have been observing them closely since the incident. I've compiled a lengthy file on the subject. It's on my computer."

“We have to do something to stop this.”

May seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but Jemma was still reeling from the special agent’s rather uncharacteristic behavior.

“Coulson has been compromised. And if he is no longer fit for duty, as a senior agent, and as his friend it’s my responsibility to notify his superiors,” May said. “It would be best coming from me.”

Jemma froze, her eyes wide. "I feared you might say that. It's why I didn't say anything earlier."

Having finally voiced what her responsibility mandated, the fire that was May's anger fizzled out leaving behind smoking embers. The situation was sobering. Plus, she didn't like how frightened Jemma looked at the prospect of losing Coulson and possibly Skye as well. As quick as lightning, the image of Skye’s hand on Coulson’s thigh flashed through May's mind, reigniting a few remaining embers. Yes, something had to be done. The young hacker's presence had been influencing and permeating Coulson's defenses long before any of them had even heard of GH 325. In fact, Coulson had been vulnerable for months. Old Coulson would have kicked her spunky behind off his team the moment she betrayed them. On second thought, the Coulson she knew would have had Skye prosecuted for hacking into a top secret government organization, not do the unthinkable and invite the little criminal to stay.

"I think we owe it to Coulson to at least try and reason with him. Maybe if we could get him to see what's been happening right under his nose…” May said, thoughtfully.  "Why don't you show me that file. Together we can come up with a plan to save this team.”

Jemma nodded as relief relaxed her features. The bus without Skye and Coulson would be like...well...quite like Fitz without Simmons. Unfathomable. "Good idea. Right this way," she said. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Connected

No grown person pretended to be asleep, this was ridiculous. Skye sat up in bed, and opened her laptop so that she could draw using a graphic tablet.  She had no earthly clue what she was drawing or what the strange symbols meant. They probably weren’t even of this planet, but she couldn't stop herself from drawing them whenever the compulsion hit. This had been going on for two nights, and so far, Skye had fifteen unique symbols to show for it. 

An hour or so later, she closed the laptop and settled on her back to stare up at the ceiling.  B-o-r-i-n-g. There had to be some way to get a few more hours of rest. Such minuscule amounts of sleep couldn't possibly be good for her body, but she'd already slept her two meager hours for the night. Figuring a strong will and determination could win out, she closed her eyes for what seemed like the one hundredth time that evening and thought about sleep and sheep and all of the things insomniacs think about to ease the disease.  But no matter how hard she tried, her body remained alert and very much awake.  

She hated wasting the night away inside of her quarters alone, meaning, without Coulson. But who was she kidding? She knew exactly why she stayed in her bunk night after night hoping for more than two hours of sleep. It was because she didn't want anyone treating her differently, and she certainly didn't want Jemma chasing her around with her evil little needles of pain, trying to take samples of Skye’s blood so that she could run tests, which only led to what? More tests! It was endless and Skye would know, because Jemma had drawn more blood during her recovery than the hacker had given up her entire life.  Which was why, at least for now, her secret nighttime habits were staying secret. But not from Coulson. She would tell him as soon as he stopped being angry with her.

For two days he'd treated her with disregard. Maybe she should march right up there and make him listen to her. He was awake. She could sense it; a fact that should completely freak her out, but didn't. Because sensing him was keeping her from feeling as if she was climbing the walls of her tiny quarters, wishing the hours away until she could be with him again. Sensing him was keeping her calm, it was keeping her sane.  She no longer felt like she was suffocating at night, because she could still feel his comforting presence even while they were apart.  It was actually a relief, considering how deftly Coulson had kept her out of his space since the whole hand-on-thigh incident of two nights prior.

She didn't understand why she'd done it, or more to the point, why she'd felt compelled to do it. It just sort of happened. However, hindsight combined with the passing of time had introduced a different perspective, a theory of sorts.  Maybe she was _supposed_ to touch him right then and exactly there. It was really weird, almost a high, the energy that surged through them the moment her hand came into contact with his muscular thigh (she had no idea he was hiding all of that under his slickly-tailored slacks). But making him hard? Well, that had not been the intent, but it was a surprising and titillating consequence.  She hadn't meant to embarrass him, especially in front of Jemma, or worse, in front of May of all people. The woman had since taken to either completely ignoring Skye or grunting as she passed her by. Her friend Jemma, however, well she had her head stuck in the sand, behaving as if there was nothing at all strange about finding her good friend with her hand high on their boss’ thigh. Between the two of them, Skye preferred May's reaction, because at least she knew where she stood with May.

But Coulson...he needed to get over it. He needed to get over himself! They were both in the dark here, and it wasn't fair that he was shutting her out.  But the more she thought about it, the more certain she became that the singular, intimate touch had forged a connection between them. How else would she be able to "feel" him when he was nowhere in sight. It could be a coincidence, but she didn't believe in coincidences.

Two days was long enough to be shut out of Coulson's world, so Skye pulled on a pair of sneakers, stepped into the hallway and carefully closed the sliding door without the tell-tale, I'm-sneaking-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night, bumping sound of door vs. frame. The bus was dimly lit and peaceful as Skye made her way up the spiral stairs that lead to the uppermost level. She stopped short at Coulson's closed office door, readying herself, building up the courage to knock. But before she could even lift her hand, the door was yanked open.

"A.C.? How did you know I was standing here?"

"I didn't," he said. The man looked worn down. Not necessarily physically, but Skye could tell that he was definitely not a happy camper.

"Well that's one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?'

"What can I do for you, Skye?" he said, his voice grim.

"We need to talk. Can I come in?"

"Do you think you can manage to keep your hands to yourself?" he asked, a  look of detached, authority on his face. He remained in the doorway blocking passage to his office. 

Ouch. He really was angry, but she refused to allow his snark to discourage her. It still hurt, though. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?  Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?" he asked, finally displaying some honest emotion.

"I think I do," she said, not at all ready for his biting response.

"Unless you've recently grown a penis, I seriously doubt that." 

Skye couldn’t believe he'd just said that with a straight face. "Look, what happened was humiliating, I get that. But I apologized right after it happened and then again the next day. What more do you want from me?" she pleaded.  

Coulson just stood there wearing that mask. The one he wore when Skye betrayed the team by sneaking off to warn her ex-boyfriend that S.H.I.E.L.D. was tracking him. 

"Why are you being like this?"  Skye asked, the sting of his hurtful still tone displayed in her eyes. "You've never stayed angry with me for this long. Come on, A.C, let me inside so that we can sit down and work this out."

"It's not a good idea.  We wouldn't want to have any more episodes of accidental fondling, would we? Because I don't think this situation can handle another one." he said, his face impassive.

Skye reeled backwards, his comment feeling like a physical slap in the face. Was he actually accusing her of... 

"Ok, wait. Let me get this straight...You think I fondled you?” she asked incredulously.  “I placed my hand on your thigh, where it remained, i-m-m-o-b-i-l-e," she said slowly, overly emphasizing each syllable. "Fondling requires subsequent and very purposeful movement, if you catch my drift here. And afterwards, I told you that I didn't mean to—" Clearly hurt and frustrated, Skye took another step backwards to clear her head for a second.  After a few moments, she continued. "When it happened, Coulson, I was just as shocked as you were."

"So why did you leave your hand there?"

"Why did you?" she said, rather loudly and moved in close to meet his accusatory gaze full on. For a long while, neither spoke. There was a staring match going on that Skye was determined to win. How dare he try putting all of the blame on her? Just who did he think he was dealing with? She may be young, but she wasn't a child and she certainly wasn't stupid. Skye was so worked up, so into the moment that she failed to notice how dilated Coulson's pupils were, or that their breathing was completely in synch.

"You could've moved my hand," she said with grit. "You could've stopped everything that led up to it.  But...you...didn't. You are just as helpless to this —" she said, gesturing back and forth between them, "—to whatever _this_ is that makes us want to be all up in each other's faces ALL of the time! So how about you stop blaming me, and start taking some responsibility for—" 

One second she was ranting angrily, and the next, Coulson's hot mouth was covering hers, kissing her passionately. Kissing her like she was his. He swung her around, backed her into the hallway wall, and pressed the full length of his body into hers causing them both to moan wildly as his tongue expertly explored her mouth.  She clung to him trying desperately to pull them closer together, except they were as close as they could get at that moment. Skye questioned whether they could ever be close enough. She didn’t know, but she was determined to find out. 

When they had to choose between breathing or passing out, Coulson backed away, breaking their connection.  As their bodies separated, the pain of loss ripped through them both, and Skye knew that the respite was over. She would never again be content with simply sensing his presence when they were apart, and that revelation combined with the loss of his touch brought tears to her eyes.

"This is why I've been avoiding you, Skye!" he said, breathlessly and with frustration clearly written all over his face.  "This is why I've fought so hard to stay angry with you, to keep you at a distance. This...this cannot happen again."

"But what if we can't control it?" she said, tears streaming down her face.

Coulson averted his eyes from the sight of her delicate, slightly swollen lips and tearful eyes, as he worked on returning his breathing to normal.

"This can't happen again," he repeated, but this time he just sounded tired. 

"I don't think we can stop it," said Skye, her voice raw with the emotion of too many tears. “Coulson...I think we’re connected."

 

 

 


	4. A Woman Scorned

May sat on her bed holding Jemma’s tablet. For three days she’d tried reading the scientist’s accounts of Coulson and Skye and their ongoing GH 325 saga. Three days and she still wasn’t finished reading the file. Jemma’s observations were painful. It was a monotonous collection of meticulously detailed garbage. Account after account of Coulson fawning over Skye as she smiled delightfully while gazing into his eyes, and all of the touching and giggling and clueless drooling over one another and… May had had enough. 

“Enough of this,” May said, shutting the tablet down. If the device hadn’t belonged to Jemma, it would’ve met it’s end on day two - a good smashing up against a nearby wall to be sure. In fact, it was when May caught herself fantasizing about doing just that on more than one occasion (the tablet gripped firmly in her trembling fingers) that she finally decided enough was enough.

Why torment herself? This Coulson was not the man she’d grown to respect. Because the Coulson she knew was not a fool. The Coulson she knew didn’t fawn over little girls. The Coulson she knew would have Skye wrapped around _his_ little finger - not the other way around. This was not her Phil. This man was not her friend. And the sooner she could get her friend back, the less time she’d spend feeling so out of control and so very angry. 

“Here, Jemma,” she said, placing the tablet on the desk beside the younger agent.

“Thank you! I planned to ask you about it today,” she said, picking up the device. She turned it every which way, inspecting the tablet for dents and scratches, smiling broadly when none were found. “And I half expected it to come back with its screen smashed in,” Jemma said, to which May simply grunted. “So, what did you think?”

“Let’s see, what did I think. Well…I wanted to know who that impostor was pretending to be Phil Coulson,” May said, harshly. “Those two are annoying. Are they sleeping together yet? Because you know that’s the next step. And then I’ll have to kill her,” May said, muttering the last part.

“May?” Jemma swirled around on the lab stool to study the special agent’s face, but all she saw was the same expression that May usually wore. Angry indifference.

“I think you should run one more test on their blood.”

“I can’t. Not until Coulson authorizes it,” Jemma said. “He is adamantly set against it.”

“Then I’ll just have to change his mind.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“By threatening to take control away from him.”

“Please don’t hurt Skye,” Jemma said, a bit frightened. May was acting very scary. More scary than usual, anyway.

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of touching Skye.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

“What are you doing, AC?” Skye asked. 

She stood in the doorway of his office for a beat before tentatively approaching his desk as he sat studiously examining his computer screen. He felt like such a fraud, because really? What could be more interesting than Skye? It was her third attempt at engaging him in conversation that morning, each attempt more distracting than the one preceding it. But he wasn’t ready to talk about last night, and no amount of prodding on her part would change that.

 “Are you busy? I thought we could talk,” Skye said.

Coulson sighed loudly. “I’m trying to finish this report. Maybe later?” he said without looking up.

In fact, he hadn’t looked at her once all day. And while he knew that avoiding her was ridiculous, he simply couldn’t bring himself to address his out-of-control, near sexual assault on his young subordinate not twelve hours earlier. Her latest attempt to engage him in discussing his behavior would soon be over, and he could once again return his full attention to something within his control. His work.  All seemed just fine, until a loud noise snapped Coulson’s head up.  What the…

“What are you doing, Skye?” he said, finding her standing over the pile of books she'd purposefully shoved off the edge of his desk.

“Grabbing your attention, Coulson,” she said, snottily.

“By throwing my books on the floor?”

“If you mean by pushing them onto the floor, then yes. And it seems to have worked, as we’re having our first face-to-face conversation of the day.”

Coulson pushed back from his desk and stood. “Pick them up.”

“No,” she said, her arms crossed. Coulson rounded the desk and stood less than a foot in front of her.

“Skye, pick up the books. That’s an order,” he said firmly.

“Make me.”

In two words the oldest playground challenge was issued. Coulson glared at her and she glared right back, each refusing to concede. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched but Skye was not deterred, nor was she intimidated.

“How dare you act as if last night meant nothing. You don’t want to discuss it, fine.  I can’t make you, but just in case you are in denial - you pinned me to a wall and kissed me so hard, I can still feel it. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

“Now is not the time for th-“

“You may not want to talk, but you will listen,” she said. Skye stepped over the books, walked over to his desk and sat in his chair. “We need to deal with this.” Sighing audibly, Coulson closed his office door and said, “Now you listen to me, Skye…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

May ascended the spiral stairs, each scuff of boot against step sounding like determination.   She approached Coulson’s office at the very moment the door was closed shut. Strange…Coulson never closed his door during the day. May leaned in closely and listened to the rise and fall of muffled voices engaged in verbal battle.

Coulson was speaking. "Calm down, Skye."

"Excuse me? I know you did not just tell me to calm down!"

“Lower your voice,” he said, evenly.

From the sounds of it, Coulson was closest to the door, and seemingly the one in control.

"And get out of my chair," he added, sounding annoyed.

"No. Not until we discuss this."

"There is nothing to discuss!" Coulson shouted.

Uh-oh...maybe Coulson wasn't the one in control after all. May listened with renewed interest, eager to see just how adept young Skye was at handling her superior officer.

"Nothing? Nothing! You kissed me Coulson! And it was rough and passionate and sexy and made me think you actually wanted to be with me. I guess I was wrong."

Wait...he kissed her? May had long suspected it, considering their recent behavior, but suspicion was one thing. Knowing was an entirely different matter altogether. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she listened.

"Skye..." Coulson breathed, sounding like putty in her hands.

"I feel used and tossed aside. Do I mean anything to you?"

"I didn't use you. Giving into this - this, thing…that would be using you!"

"Giving into this thing, as you put it, is inevitable. I told you last night - we are connected!” May could hear the desk chair as it slid backwards and the sound of Skye's boots walking closer to the door - closer to Coulson. "You are all I think about," she said softly. Coulson let out a long sigh.

"We cannot give into this, Skye," he said in a voice that May knew all too well.

"I don't think giving in would be the worst thing to happen to us. Do you?" Skye asked. "Kiss me, Phil. Kiss me like you did last night," Skye whispered almost too softly for May to hear. She leaned in closer, placing her ear completely against the door. Suddenly, a loud thump of someone or some thing being slammed against the door propelled her backwards.

"What the hell?" May said. She leaned in, closer hearing passionate moans and sounds of kissing. Apparently, Coulson had decided to grant Skye's request. Out of control? These two were so way beyond that. May straightened up and knocked on the door, loudly.

"Coulson? I know you're in there. We need to talk."

May heard the rustling of material and the scooting of Skye’s boots but for the moment, Coulson remained quiet.

"Coulson?"

“The door is unlocked, May,” he said in a near-normal voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

May opened the door to find him seated at his desk as if he’d been there the all along. She entered the office and quietly closed the door. His eyes were on her as she scanned the room, searching.

“Looking for something,” Coulson asked.  And why did you close my door?”

“Where's Skye,” May said, ignoring his questions.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Coulson said, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you looking for her?”

“Because I know she’s here and I don’t wish to have this conversation in front of her,” May said briskly. Icily. Frostily. She had Coulson’s complete attention now.  He studied her for a moment before responding.

“I've seen this side of you before, May,” Coulson said as he rose from his chair. Placing both fists on the desk, he leaned forward at a 45 degree angle and focused all of his attention on her. "Just say what you came here to say."

“It’s against protocol to have certain discussions in front of a subordinate. You know that as well as I do,” she snapped nastily. "But you haven't exactly been following protocol these days, so perhaps a little reminder is more than appropriate.”

Coulson glared at May and May glared right on back. And that was how Skye found them; up-at-arms, ready for battle.

“What’s going on here,” she said, breaking the silence. Neither looked at her. “Um, hello…you two. I don’t know what happened in the entire minute I was gone, but…”

No reaction, just more glaring.

Skye observed, no…felt Coulson's anger towards May, and sensed an increase in his heart rate. It didn't occur to her how odd this knowledge was, and she didn't question it. She just knew and knowingly made a decision.

“May, you’re upsetting Coulson. I want you to leave,” Skye said, as if giving May a direct order was a daily occurrence. May whipped her body around to face Skye with squared shoulders and a clenched jaw. Skye returned her glare evenly and without fear, which only further angered May.

“What did you say to me?”

“You heard me,” Skye said in a taunting manner. Coulson looked on proudly. “I don’t want you upsetting Coulson. Now leave.”

Skye crossed over to Coulson and placed a hand on his arm. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and allowed his arm to rest across her shoulders. May noticed the way he massaged Skye’s arm with his fingertips and how the young woman blithely leaned into him, almost as if she was goading May.

“Coulson…you’d better call back your puppy before it gets kicked in the teeth,” May said, her eyes locked with Skye’s.

Silence glare, glare silence.

“No? Fine. We can do this in front of Skye," May said, suddenly smiling the most wicked smile since The Grinch stole Christmas. “The two of you have been behaving strangely. Jemma thinks the GH 325 is to blame. Report to her lab first thing in the morning for testing, or I will be forced to take over command of this team.”

Coulson didn't even flinch. “You read my mind. I was just about to head down to schedule testing for Skye and myself when you barged in here,” Coulson said nonchalantly. His next comment was up close and personal and very much lacking in nonchalance. He released his hold on Skye and approached May, stopping within inches. “But threaten me again, and the next time this plane touches ground, you will be escorted off.” he said, his voice low and menacing. Skye smiled and nodded in agreement. May took one look at her smug little face and made the decision.

“You haven’t told her, have you,” May said with forced sweetness.

“Told her what?” Coulson asked, suddenly uncomfortable. Instead of answering Coulson, May turned to address Skye.

“Coulson and I are lovers - we have been for years. And just so that you know…he was with me last night.

“Stop it, May," Coulson said with a tone of warning.

“Stop what, baby? Stop telling the truth,” she said, running a hand down Coulson's arm. He smacked her hand away and returned to Skye's side. May chuckled wickedly.  "I know you wanted to keep us a secret, but being as you’ve gone all Stepford on me, I guess all bets are off.”

“None of that matters. Only Skye matters now.”

“Really? Because it didn’t feel like only Skye mattered last night,” she said, her eyes staring coldly at Coulson. “It didn’t taste like it either. All these years of being there for you whenever, wherever…I remember everything. Things that would make this sweet little baby girl of yours choke. But maybe that's ok. You do enjoy choking em’ out, don't you, Phil?” she said, her voice low and scandalous.

“Coulson?” Skye said, shakily. He stepped forward and opened the door.

“Get out before I throw you out,” he said, darkly.

May laughed low and suggestive as she sauntered to the door. “So you’ve made your choice. Just remember this, Phil. Because the next time you try crawling into my bed and between my legs, I won’t be as accommodating. In fact, I’ll toss your ass out. Literally.” Just before crossing the threshold, she turned to look at Skye and said, “One more thing, baby girl. Swallow, don't spit."

 

 

 

 


	5. A Woman Scorned x 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May pushed open her room door and nearly drew her weapon on instinct. An unexpected visitor sat on her bed. Coulson. His head was slung low, his shoulders hunched. He was unshaven and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And when he didn't bother to acknowledge her presence May grew concerned. She walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. He covered it with his own.

_May laughed low and suggestive as she sauntered to the door. “So you’ve made your choice. Just remember this, Phil. Because the next time you try crawling into my bed and between my legs, I won’t be as accommodating. In fact, I’ll toss your ass out. Literally.” Just before crossing the threshold, she turned to look at Skye and said, “One more thing, baby girl. Swallow, don't spit."_

  _Chapter 5: A Woman Scorned x 2_

 

The moment the door hit the frame, Skye crossed the office and began pacing in one small area near the bookcase.  

“Skye…” he began. Skye froze and shot him a look as deadly as viper venom. The words stilled in Coulson's throat. He let out a long, silent sigh and resignedly quieted himself.   

She snatched her eyes away and continued pacing, her thoughts racing.Phil. May had called him Phil. Why was May allowed to call him by his first name? Images of May and Coulson in intimate embraces flipped through her mind.  It was making Skye want to vomit. 

“You slept with her, Phil?” she asked, after several long minutes. It was a dare. If May was allowed to do it, Skye sure as hell was going to. Screw this.

Coulson flinched at the harshness of her tone. “I have never claimed to be a saint,” he said, ignoring her obvious use of his first name. 

“Isn’t that the understatement," she said, brutally, her hands clenched at her sides in small, tight fists. 

Coulson took a few steps towards her but decided to stay put. He crossed his arms and just stood in the middle of the room waiting. He’d never seen Skye so angry. Not even with the man who’d pumped bullets into her belly. It had been up close, personal and brutal. Yet she seemed more incensed over May's reveal than at nearly being killed.

"All this time? You've been screwing May all this time?" she asked. She stopped before him just outside of reach. Her eyes bore into him. 

"Skye...it's not what you think.” 

"Really. That's the excuse you're going with?  It's not what you think, Skye?" she said in a mocking tone. “I expected more from you."

Coulson was silent.  She really didn't get it. He would die for her. He’d moved heaven and earth to save her. Why couldn’t she see that? He must’ve appeared disinterested because Skye had moved closer and seemed even more upset. 

“Great. You're not even listening to me.”

He met her gaze straight on. “I heard every word.” 

Skye seemed to jump ahead in her  reasoning, skipping over mounds of emotional baggage along the way. “You said it wasn't like that.So what was it like? Explain yourself!” she said. Her eyes brimmed with stubborn tears that refuse release.

"Skye, I-" 

"You know what? Never mind," she said. Brushing past him, she made her way to the door. She grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled. The door slid open. “I expected more from you. I will never forget this,” she said. Her mouth was set firm and true.

Coulson didn't want her to leave. Not like this. He rushed to her, instinctively knowing what needed to happen. 

"Don't go," he said, reaching out to still her. The moment his fingertips made contact with her flesh she froze.

"You let go of my arm right now," she said, except her venomous tone was gone. It had drained away through his fingertips and out of her body leaving her feeling odd.To be so angry one second and unnervingly calm the next should have made her suspicious but she wasn’t. All she felt was Coulson. 

"Please. Don't go,”  he said, softly. He gently pulled her out of the doorway and closed the door.  “I want you to stay."

She felt her head nodding yes a moment before his hot mouth covered hers.She wrapped her arms around him. Her hungry hands traveled all over him to places she’d only dreamed of touching. Because she had to touch him. She couldn’t not. Their breaths came in quick bursts, their chests heaved synchronously.  He breathed her in. She exhaled him out. They were wrapped in a cocoon, their awareness narrowed down to their two bodies struggling to get closer, to consume one another.The cocoon muffled their periphery. Ambient noises were reduced to a dull hum. It was just Coulson and Skye. They were all that mattered.  Neither knew how long they stayed that way. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours.  

But then Coulson stiffened. He turned his head towards his desk breaking the kiss.

“Do you hear that?” he asked. Skye hadn’t heard a thing until that very moment. It was the sound of a shrill bell ringing  from a far away place.  It sounded distorted, like they were seated on the floor of a swimming pool at the deep end. Slowly they drifted to the surface.

"My phone," Coulson said. He shook his head a few times really hard and released Skye.  

The moment of their disengagement felt like two very large pieces of velcro being violently ripped apart. Skye staggered backwards in confusion. 

What just happened? One second she wanted to scream at him and the next he was her oxygen, her reason for being. She rubbed her temples and struggled to clear her head.  

"Yes, sir. I will take care of that, right away,” she heard him say. He returned the phone to its cradle and approached her. She was visibly irate. 

“Do you know what just happened?” she asked.

"What?"

"You touched me and... You know damn well what,” she said, backing up. Her defenses had been re-armed. She was back in combat mode and having none of his shit.  

Coulson opened his mouth to respond. 

“You know what? Don’t even answer that. Wanna know why? Because it doesn’t matter,” she said. Her hands were planted on her hips and she looked one hundred percent peeved. 

"I think you know that it does matter” he said. His voice, those eyes.  She felt herself being pulled back in. Coulson stepped closer. He reached out to touch her, but Skye jumped backwards. 

"Don't touch me!" she shouted. Don’t you ever touch me again!”  

Skye lunged for the door and let herself out, leaving Coulson standing in the middle of his office. He looked like a broken man. 

Grabbing onto the railing, Skye took to the stairs two at a time all the way down to the lower level. Jemma looked up as Skye marched into the lab, her chest heaving. 

“Draw my blood, Jemma. Please,” she said, hurriedly. She slammed her body on a stool and rolled up her sleeve.  

Jemma paused briefly to take in her friend’s state. “What’s the matter? You look like you’re about to cry!” 

“Please, if you could just draw my blood…” Skye said, her voice shaking. She covered her eyes with her hands as fresh, warm tears wet her face.  

“Skye.” Jemma pulled her friend into a hug and held her tight. Skye wiped her hand roughly across her cheeks and mentally dared the tears to return. She was stronger than this.  

“It’s Coulson, isn’t it. What has he done?” Jemma said into Skye’s hair. Skye pulled away. 

“Why would you assume that?” Skye said, searching Jemma’s face.  

“Skye… Everyone knows,” Jemma said softly. 

“Knows what?” 

“Everyone knows how you and Coulson are linked, connected…co-dependent.” 

“What? Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?" 

“I didn’t know what to do!  You were behaving so unlike yourself and I thought you’d shut me out! I’m so sorry!” 

“You’ve all been talking about us behind our backs? Why didn’t you say something? You should have come to me! I thought you were my friend!”  

“I am your friend, Skye, that hasn’t changed,” Jemma said, gently.  “I needed to approach the situation as a scientist. If I made you aware of your behavior, you may have altered it in some way.  I had to see if the GH-325 was to blame. Even still, I am ashamed at what I’ve done. Please forgive me.”   

Skye silently glared at her.   

“Please, sit back down,” Jemma said, gesturing towards the shiny metal stool.  Skye reluctantly sat but remained sullen. “Are you going to tell me what this is about? We both know much you hate being poked,” she said lightly. 

“ I need you to do your sciency thing and whip up a cure. A serum.An anecdote. Anything to unhook me from Coulson!”  

“What happened?” 

Skye shook her head furiously and jutted out her arm. 

 Several vials of blood later, Skye retired to her room for the night. Jemma remained in the lab long enough to log in the samples and take digital pictures with her fancy microscope. With the blood stored in the lab refrigerator, she flipped out the lights and headed to her bunk, wondering if Skye would ever truly forgive her.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun burst over the horizon in a spectacular display. It was a beautiful view, particularly from the cockpit.  May smiled briefly in appreciation of the orange glow that filled the early morning sky.  A gentle knock on the door immediately stole her peace. 

"Come in, Coulson,”  she said, coldly. 

He stepped through the small doorway and stood behind her with crossed arms.  

“What do you want?” she said, knowing exactly why he was there. 

He glared at the back of her head. A vein pulsated in his neck. “Why” was all he said. 

May winced. She started to speak but the words stuck in her throat. “I could ask you the same thing,” she finally said.  

She had yet to turn around to look him in the eyes. Sighing, she switched to autopilot and swiveled around in her chair.  And that’s when she saw just how angry Coulson was with her. 

May’s relationship with Coulson had always been difficult to categorize. He’d been a confidant, a colleague, a friend and a superior officer. And on the very rare occasion, he also played the role of  lover. They hadn't been together for several years, and she’d just about lost hope that he’d ever see her in that way again. That was probably why she started sleeping with Ward.  

But then the other night happened. At the time, she thought that changed everything.  Since then she'd played it over and over in her mind. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Two Nights Prior 

It was the end of May’s shift and she was dead tired. After securing the cabin, she closed the cockpit door behind her and walked through the passageway towards her nearby quarters. It was nice to have space so far removed from the rest of the team. This was her solace, her place to just be. She began unzipping her black leather top, anxious to be free of its constraints.  

May pushed open her room door and nearly drew her weapon on instinct. An unexpected visitor sat on her bed. Coulson. His head was slung low, his shoulders hunched. He was unshaven and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And when he didn't bother to acknowledge her presence May grew concerned. She walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. He covered it with his own. 

Suddenly he stood and pulled her into a tight hug. He held her there in his arms for a long time before dropping his hands to her hips and burying his face in the crook of her neck.He inhaled deeply and held his breath for a beat before releasing it in staggered bursts. May allowed herself to be held. She'd seen him like this before.

“Melinda….I need you,” he said. 

His voice rumbled in her ear and resonated in her heart. He needed her. Coulson needed her.  The words were code as much as they were truth.  This was how they usually ended up making love. Coulson broken and battered. Sometimes mentally, most of the time physically. He sought her out because she understood. She knew. Over all the years spent in each other's orbits, she knew him better than anyone. And right then at that moment, what he needed was her touch. So, she took him by the hand and led him to her bathroom where she helped him out of his clothing. Why he was still wearing a suit hadn’t even fazed her. Neither had the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear. 

After stepping out of his slacks, Coulson took over. He finished unzipping her top and slid it off her arms. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. One hand behind her back released her bra. It too fell to the floor. He gazed hungrily at her body. It was almost as if he'd never seen so much creamy skin in his life. He took a step backwards for a better look.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. May smiled seductively and unzipped her pants. Without a word, she moved to the shower and turned on the spray. Once it was adjusted to the perfect temperature, she removed her pants and panties. 

Coulson’s eyes roamed hungrily along the curvy plains of her body. It seemed like ages instead of years since they'd seen each other this way. Had it really been that long?  He slipped in closer and pulled her body to his. May’s breathing faltered at the press of a gentle kiss to her jawline. The pads of his fingers dug possessively into her hips where he secured her steady and sure against his rapidly hardening need. The melody of his excitement ghosted across her cheek with each breath. 

But what was this really about? Sure he needed her, but something about it felt wrong. Especially since he’d recently spent nearly every waking hour with Skye. So why wasn’t he with her now?Sure, May loved Coulson, but she had to think defensively. Why was he really there and how much of his sudden appearance in her room for a glorified booty call had to do with their newest team member? These questions needed to be answered.  

“Coulson, we -“  she started. He placed a forefinger across her lips and pleaded with her with his eyes. May sighed.  

When she didn’t object, Coulson began pressing gentle, wet kisses along the length of her neck. May shivered, it was all too much. His strong hands cupped her ass before sliding up her body on a mission of exploration. He relished in the feel of her milky curves that fit so perfectly against his muscular hardness.  The tip of his tongue slipped out between nibbles to taste the sweetness of her supple skin. He sealed each kiss with a soft moan and May was coming undone. Her body wanted him to take her right then, right there.  She tried to speak, but only noises escaped, sounding closer to choked groans than any known language. She resigned herself to the feel of the firm hands that mapped her body. To the fingers that read her contours, her curves, her strength. To the need that surged back and forth between them like an X-rated ping pong match. 

May reached between them, she had to. Coulson let out a guttural moan when she wrapped her hand around his hardness and gently began pumping him. He closed his eyes and bared his neck to her. She leaned in and pulled him by the back of his head with her free hand, and brought his thick neck to her open, waiting mouth.A gentle bite just above his collar bone brought on a slew of moans. She licked the bite mark and bit him again, all while her other hand continued stroking him. He felt so familiar yet so very fresh and new in her palm. She increased the pace, stroking him in longer, smoother movements. He bit his bottom lip as a constellation formed between his brows. She’d almost forgotten how much she enjoyed watching his face like this. He licked his lips and pumped into her hand. He was swollen and heavy and warm to the touch. When her thumb glazed over his tip, his eyes sprung open. They were hungry eyes.  

He took her by the hand and led her to the shower. They stepped in, one after the other. The steady stream of hot water flowed over her hair, flattening it to her head. Coulson moved in from behind and sealed himself to her backside.Wrapping his arms around her waist he pulled her against his body.  

“I need you,” he whispered in her ear. 

“I know.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

The memories were fresh, raw. And no matter how hard she tried to dim them, their night of passion refused to stop replaying in her mind. 

“You used me,” she said, standing up. She walked around and stood several feet away from him. “It was Skye.She was the reasonyou ‘needed me’ that night.Had you already kissed her when you appeared in my room so broken? So destroyed? Were you afraid of losing control with her, and figured, hell, I’ll just go fuck May! She’ll be just -” 

 May cut herself off as anger fought it’s way to the surface. Coulson looked guilty. Coulson _was_ guilty.

“And yet you have the audacity to stand here and self righteously ask me why.” she said. She moved in closer. 

 His nostrils flared. “I would offer an explanation, but I am not feeling so inclined after what you did. After the things you said to Skye. You need to make this right,” he said. 

 May had seen him angry before, but not like this. He was calm. He was murderous. But so was she. “Excuse me?” she said, getting in his face. Now she really was angry.

 “You heard me.” His voice was low, deadly. “Make this right or -“

 “Or what? You’ll toss me off your plane? Go ahead, Phil. Toss me.”

 “You will apologize to Skye,” he said.

 A myriad of expressions crossed May’s face, all of them shades of anger. She was giving him too much control. She slowly inhaled, concentrating on releasing the anger through her nostrils. Soon her face smoothed out and resumed its normal, seemingly impassive state. 

 “Sure. I’ll apologize to Skye. As soon as you apologize to me,” she said. 

 Coulson’s stern expression turned incredulous for a split second. But before she could blink, his Agent Coulson face was solidly in place and he said, “You have your orders.”  He turned on his heel to exit the cabin, but she quickly grabbed him by the wrist and held on tight. He glared at her over his shoulder, his feet remained directed toward the door. 

 "Let. Go.” 

“You really have no clue, do you? I don’t know what happened to the real Phil, but when **he** returns, do me a favor and let me know. Until then, fuck you. Sir.”

 Coulson’s eyes narrowed. He snatched his wrist out of her grasp. “I believe you’ve already done that,” he said on his way out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shamefully long delay in updating this. Life sometimes refuses to cooperate with the creative flow of things.


	6. Tethered

Skye squinted in the early morning sun. She was groggy and disoriented, her eyes puffy and swollen. She felt hungover, but she hadn’t had any alcohol. Had she?

It was one of those mornings when you wake up and nothing feels the same. You wonder, was that a dream? Did that actually happen? It all seemed so surreal, but it wasn’t. She and Coulson were changing. Into what, she had no clue. But what she did know was that she wanted it to end.

Skye stood and nearly loss her balance. Her legs felt rubbery, she was uneasy on her feet. She flailed out and directed her body towards the bed. Her hands landed palms flat against the wall alongside the bunk. Her head was spinning and spinning and what in the world was happening? She shook her head vigorously and took a few deep breaths, which made the spinning worse. Her hands skidded down the wall as her legs gave way. Everything slowed down as her body angled towards the floor. A singular question blasted through her head. Strange symbols flashed in rapid procession through her mind. Where is Coulson? Where is Coulson? WHERE IS COULSON?? She hit the floor with a loud thud. Everything went to black.

~*~*~*~*~*

“Has anyone seen Skye?” Agent Ward asked. He was standing in the doorway of the lab in workout gear, his hands firmly planted on his hips.

Fitz glanced up from his pile of circuitry and said, “I haven’t seen her.”  Building a new gadget had most of his attention. He was, however, able to gaze across the lab at Jemma at irregular intervals, but he might as well have been invisible to her. At least on this particular morning.

Ward directed his attention to Jemma. The young scientist stood peering into the microscope. “That’s weird,” she said. She scribbled something on a notepad and returned to the eyepiece. 

“Agent Simmons. Have you seen Skye?” Ward said, over-enunciating each syllable.

Simmons raised her head. “I haven’t seen her this  morning. Have you checked her bunk?”Her eyes were already plastered to the eyepiece again. 

Ward expelled air from his lungs like a prized bull.  “She’s missed training. If you see her, tell her that,” he said before storming off. Jemma looked around to catch Fitz’s eyes and silently communicated: What an ass!  She returned her attention to the task of analyzing the blood sample taken from Skye the night before.

“This is odd,” she said. 

“What’s odd?” Fitz asked.

“Skye’s blood. It’s…misbehaving.”

“That _is_ odd,” Fitz said, looking intrigued. “Exactly how does blood do that?”

“Come here. Take a look,” she said. Fitz dropped his tool and crossed the lab to Jemma.  She moved aside and watched as he pressed his eye to the eyepiece.

“This isn’t just odd…”

~*~*~*~*~*

“What are you doing in here, Ward,” May asked. 

Ward deposited himself in the co-pilot’s chair and swiveled to face her. He had a big fat mini grin on his face.

“Skye missed her training this morning. From what I could gather from the Science Twins, she hasn’t been seen all morning. I swear, if she’s not going to take this seriously…”

“Is that what you came up here to say?” May said, curtly.

“Well…no…  I came to see if you wanted company,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Not really,” she said, not looking at him. The smile slid off his face. He stood to leave. He was just about to cross the threshold when May spoke.

“Did you happen to see Coulson in the lab?”

“No, I didn’t. In fact, I haven’t seen him all morning.”

May placed the plane in autopilot and stood up. “Here, take the controls. There’s something I need to do,” she said, brushing past him.

“Can’t it wait? I was just about to - “

May continued her journey away from the cockpit. Her entire body was angled forward, she was on a mission. “No. It can’t,” she said without looking back. 

She made her way to the lower level and entered the lab. “Jemma. Did Coulson and Skye show up to have their blood drawn this morning?” 

Jemma raised her head and said, “I drew Skye’s blood last night. She was very insistent on it. I have not seen Coulson this morning, but I need to speak with him as soon as possible.” Jemma returned her attention to the specimen. “There’s something wrong with Skye’s blood.” When May didn’t respond, Jemma looked up to find the room absent of the specialist. Simmons shrugged and returned to her work. 

There was a bad feeling growing in the pit of May’s belly. Something was wrong, she just knew it. The foreboding started right after Coulson left the cockpit earlier that morning. Their argument had been ugly, but this wasn’t about that. She tackled two levels of stairs and rushed into Coulson’s office. No, this was about something else entirely.  The office lights were off. Why were his lights out? The blue glow of the communication terminal was not bright enough to see properly. She fumbled around the wall for the switch even as her eyes continued searching the room in the darkness.

“Coulson? Are you in here?” she said. Her fingers found the light switch. The sudden brightness hurt her eyes, but she kept searching “Coulson. Where are you?”  She made her way around the perimeter of the office. His bed was folded up and nothing seemed out of place. She crossed the room and walked through his closet. No Coulson.

”Coulson, if you’re in here and ignoring me, I swear - “ May was turning in place when she saw something sticking out from behind the desk. It was Coulson’s foot! She rushed clear across the office to his side. 

“Coulson?” she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “Phil, baby?”  He was positioned on his side. She lowered her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong. Relief nearly choked her.

 “Coulson, can you hear me?” she said slowly. She didn’t want to move him. Years of medic experience told her not to, but she couldn't just leave him sprawled out on the floor. May touched her earpiece. “Ward, I need you in Coulson’s office. Now!”

~*~*~*~*~*

_Skye. Skye. Wake up Skye._

“Skye?”

“Coulson?” Skye opened her eyes and smiled.  It was short lived. “Where are we?” 

“I’m guessing we’re in some sort of compound.”

“Why can’t I remember arriving here?”

“What is the last thing you do remember?” 

“Passing out,” she said, sitting up.

“Same.”

“Something about this feels very off.”

“Yes. Almost like it’s too perfect.”

Skye tried to stand and was overcome with dizziness. “Oh, crap. My head is spinning.”

“It takes a while to become acclimated to this place. Wait a few minutes and try again, but ease up.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“About…that’s weird. I don’t know.” 

“That is weird. I’m thirsty. Do you have any wa -“ A bottle of water appeared in her hand before the sentence was complete. Skye’s eyes grew wide as dinner plates. “Did you see that?” 

“See what? Coulson asked. At first Skye thought he was kidding. How could he have missed the magically-appearing… 

What was she thinking? Skye couldn’t remember. She drank the water and settled back on the bed.  The bed? They were lying together on a huge brass bed on a beach. A light breeze tickled their skin as waves nipped around the legs of the bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slept.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“We have to get them to the closest SHIELD facility,” May said as she hurried out of the lab where she and Agent Ward had just deposited Skye and Coulson. 

“But Coulson said - “ Jemma started. May stopped in her tracks and turned to face Jemma.

“Coulson is incapacitated. You will follow my orders. Is that understood, Agent Simmons?”

“Yes sir,” Jemma said. 

May exited the lab and ran two flights up to the cockpit. She strapped herself in and punched in a course. It wasn’t until they’d flown thirty minutes into the route that tears threatened to sting her eyes. After all they’d said to one another that very morning; after everything that happened two nights prior, one thing remained true. May was still in love with Phillip J. Coulson. And she was going to do whatever it took to save him.


	7. Congruity

May peered out the window through aviator sunglasses. Her outward appearance was at war with the typhoon of emotions swirling around inside her. Finding Coulson unconscious and sprawled out on the floor had really kicked her protectiveness into overdrive. Nothing messed with those under her protection.  Not even alien DNA, but she would be a fool not to realize that this particular situation was well outside of her control. Acknowledging that had her in a world of turmoil, because doing so forced her to face an ugly supposition: What if Coulson never woke up again? What if he was lost to her forever? What if the last thing they'd said to one another was that morning's angry, hatefulness? What if... 

May's eyes began to water but she bit back the tears. 

No. She would not cry. 

She would not consider what ifs. 

Coulson and Skye would wake up. 

Coulson would find his way back to her.

He would. He had to.

May clicked the button on her communicator. "Any improvement, Agent Simmons?" she asked.

Agent Simmons looked up from her microscope and glanced over at her two patients. They were situated side-by-side on hospital beds that had been pushed very close together for lack of space. The area was only designed for one patient but with just one doctor and the need for constant research, this was about the best they could do. 

"No changes in Coulson or Skye, unfortunately. How long until we reach the facility? I must have more advanced equipment. Researching and testing this alien DNA is way beyond the scope of this lab," Jemma said. 

"Keep at it."  May replied. "We will arrive at the facility in 45 minutes."

"Roger that," Jemma said. 

Jemma was worried, exhausted and frazzled. So far, every test she could think of running on their limited equipment had been inconclusive. Even still, she was fairly certain that Skye and Coulson were in a coma. An unconventional coma to be sure, as their hearts were beating strong and their breathing steady, normal.  The problem was, they simply would not wake up. 

Directly after they were settled in their beds, Jemma immediately extracted blood from Coulson and a couple of fresh tubes from Skye.  Tests were underway but nothing was coming fast enough. She returned her attention to the test slide containing a new sample of Skye's blood. After positioning it in the microscope, she lowered her eye to the eyepiece and gasped. 

"What the hell?" she said, not believing her eyes. "This doesn't make sense!" The new sample, the one just taken from Skye - this sample did not match the blood sample taken from her the night before. "This is unheard of!" Jemma cried. She adjusted the slide once more and took another peep. Just then, a commotion demanded her attention. 

"Jemma. Come, quickly!" Fitz shouted. He was standing at the foot of the patient beds staring intently.

"What is it, Fitz?" Jemma said as she rushed across the room.

"Look, their hands," Fitz said, pointing. Jemma stood beside him and followed the line of Fitz's finger to the space between the beds. She gasped and looked at Fitz with wide, hopeful eyes.

"They're holding hands!" they said in unison.

*~*~*~*~*

Coulson awakened to the sound of the ocean. He sat up and looked around at the beautiful white-sand beach that stretched as far as he could see. It was peaceful, serene. It was perfection.  He reached over and shook Skye awake. 

"Wake up, Skye," he said, gently. "We have to go."

"Go?" she said, She sat up and stretched. They were both dressed in white hospital gowns.The uncomfortable kind that tied in the back and left the privacy of your backside to chance. 

"Go where?" Skye asked.

"I don't know." Coulson said. 

He smiled, got out of bed and stretched. His bare feet dug into the warm white sand. The tide had since retreated and the sun shone high in the sky. It was bright, constant. He glanced around and took deep breaths filling his lungs with clean, salty air. Turning slowly, he extended his arm towards Skye. She mirrored his movement.  Coulson grabbed hold of her dainty hand and said, 

"We must go." 

"I know," she said with full conviction in her voice. "We have to find it."

*~*~*~*~*

Back in the lab all hell had broken loose. 

"Coulson, Skye!" Jemma said, loudly as she leaned over their beds. "Quick, Fitz!  Bring my stethoscope!" Fitz dashed to the counter and grabbed the instrument. "Coulson, can you hear me? Skye? Wake up!" 

"Here!" Fitz dropped the stethoscope in Jemma's hand and stood back. Jemma listened to Coulson's lungs and heart and frowned. 

"I don't understand," she said. She readjusted her footing in the very tight space and turned to examine Skye.  "They are definitely not awake. So exactly how have they managed to hold hands?" 

She was continuing her examination of Skye when suddenly, Jemma shot upright. 

"Quick, Fitz! Grab another stethoscope!" 

Fitz bolted across to the storage unit, grabbed a stethoscope and rushed back to Jemma. 

"Come, stand beside me," she said. Fitz eyed the narrow space between beds where Jemma stood and shrugged. He could fit. Turning sideways, he made his way to her side.

"Listen to Coulson's heart."

"Ok? But didn't you just do that?"

"Yes, Fitz. I'm testing a theory." 

Fitz nodded and placed his stethoscope in his ears then on Coulson's chest. "Sounds fine to me," he said, removing the instrument from his ears as he turned towards Jemma.

"I know. It's beating perfectly, and so is Skye's." She reached out and grabbed Fitz's hand and began to rhythmically tap her thumb into his palm. Fitz looked on a bit bewildered, but went with it.

"Each tap represents one beat of Skye's heart," Jemma said. "Now do the same to me."

"You want me to do what now?"

"I want you to tap your thumb on my hand to correspond with each beat of Coulson's heart." Fitz shrugged and said, "Ok, here it goes."  He replaced the stethoscope and went to re-examine Coulson. 

"Starting now," he said as he began to gently tap into Jemma's hand. He was twelve taps in when she joined in. 

"I'm tapping out Skye's again. Do not stop Coulson's." 

 _Tap, tap, tap_ \- they touched each other's hands over and over while staring dumbfounded into each other's eyes. Each and every beat was being tapped out at the very same moment, the exact same second. Coulson and Skye's hearts were beating in sync.

*~*~*~*~*

The beach appeared to stretch on for miles.  The two travelers continued on their path along the shore.  Their destination: An unspoken riddle, an enigma just out of reach.  With their fingers linked together, they trudged along. After some time, they couldn’t be certain how long, Coulson stopped and faced Skye. He still held her hand in his. He squeezed her fingers and started to speak, but realized he didn’t need to. 

_Do you know where we're going?_

_I don't. I only know that I need to be here, in this place, with you._

_Something is drawing us to it._ _We must obey its call._

 *~*~*~*~*

"I need to re-examine Coulson's blood sample," Jemma said. She left Fitz with the patients and hurried over to the refrigerator where she carefully removed the tray that held six blood samples upright and secure. That is unless one tripped over their own feet when walking, and hurled the tray and its little glass tubes through the air. 

"Nooooo!," Jemma screamed, and fell to the floor. With a crash and a screech, the metal tray hit the lab floor and skidded to a stop.

Moments later, Fitz was on the floor beside Jemma as she sobbed near the shards of glass and blood splatter.

"Jemma! Are you ok?" he said, kneeling beside her to check her palms for cuts.

"What have I done?" she cried. 

"Jemma, it's ok. You're ok, right?" Fitz said. He pulled her into his arms. Her muffled voice rose from where it was pressed against his lab coat. 

"I can't believe I did that," she said. Her tearing eyes peered over Fitz's shoulder at the bloody broken mess. "They're depending on me. Coulson and Skye are depending on me and I can't figure out how to walk straight?" 

"Everybody makes mistakes, Jemma," Fitz said. "Besides, only two of the tubes broke. Why don't you sit down for a while. I'll clean it up," he said. Jemma nodded and went to stand. But as she rose to her feet and her vantage point changed, her eyes widened. 

"Wait!" she said. Fitz froze. "Don't take another step!" Jemma stepped strategically over the shards of glass, blood splatter and four perfectly intact tubes to the perimeter of the disaster area. There two smashed tubes had broken approximately five feet apart. She wouldn't have thought anything of it had the blood not been...misbehaving. 

"Look," she said, pointing her finger repeatedly. 

"The blood. The blood is moving!"

 

 

 


End file.
